The Lack of Creativity, Part 5
by Ascot no miko
Summary: Part Five: The Guide to Self-Inserting Thyself. -- And so the series continues, albeit belatedly, to serve as a warning to those who partake in the act of self-insertion. Written for Baranth. (Warning: Swearing. Some of it British, even.)


  
  
Kyra Rivers was a fairy normal sort of girl. She was around five feet tall -- just under, in fact, and heaven help the poor soul who deigned to comment on that fact -- and had shoulder-cropped, auburn-colored hair. She was eighteen years old -- a relic! ancient! -- and had just graduated from her hometown high school. And, being a recently graduated senior of thirteen odd years of schooling, she did what any normal teenage girl would do.  
  
She slept.  
  
This, of course, was intermixed with the twenty hours at work she put in each week, the various road trips to soccer games, and the endless amount of time she spent on the computer. Still, sleeping was a fairly high priority, and it was what she was doing the day that the Request was made. ( being capitalized because, of course, this signifies its utmost importance. As Kyra soon discovered.)  
  
It was rather annoying, really, to be shaken awake from a luxurious nap, but Kyra thought she handled it quite well.  
  
What do you WANT?! she snarled, glaring blearily at the form in the corner. Her hand gripped the remote to her television, which was comfortably in range of her bedside (should she require any pre and/or post-nap t.v.)  
  
Nothing much, a comical sort of voice responded cooly. Simply an afternoon of your time. Or-- There was a brief motion in the corner, as if the form was checking a wristwatch, --considering that it's seven p.m., an evening of your time.  
  
Kyra stared at the shadowed form, saying nothing. After a couple minutes of silence -- in which the Mother of All Staring Contests ensued --, Kyra replied.  
  
she muttered, turning around and snuggling quite comfortably back in her bed.  
  
Oh! Hey, now, the form protested, You can't just ignore me like that!  
  
Bet you I can,  
  
No! Hey! The mysterious voice was beginning to sound rather annoyed.  
  
Go. Away.  
  
There was the distinct sound of pouting -- which Kyra blissfully ignored, curling up tighter under her comforter --; a bit of general rummaging around the room -- which Kyra noted with only a slight clenching of the teeth --; a brief silence -- which made Kyra tense up and watch the wall of her room worriedly --; and then--  
  
Say, are these extended edition Lord of the Rings DVDs?  
  
Okay, fine, said Kyra, sitting up and glaring at the shadowed form (which, despite not actually being in any shadows whatsoever, was still indistinguishable to her.) What _exactly_ do you want?  
  
For me to explain, the shadowy form -- which Kyra was finding increasingly more disconcerting as time went by -- said, You'll have to come with me.  
  
muttered Kyra, rolling her eyes. She climbed out of bed and tied her hair back sloppily. Fine, if only because I'm too lazy to forcefully ignore you.  
  
the figure said, and then paused. Wait a second -- why are you trusting me so easily? I could be a rapist, or a murderer, or a... a HieadxZero shipper!  
  
Plot hole, Kyra replied calmly, yawning widely. Besides, if you _were_ a HieadxZero shipper, I'd know by your inability to form coherent sentences.  
  
Wow, that was mean. You better hope there aren't any HieadxZero shippers reading this, the figure said.  
  
They can bite me, snarled Kyra irritably. Now, come _on_. Teen Titans is on in an hour, and if you make me miss it, by God, I'll have your head.  
  
....it's not like you aren't taping it _anyway_.  
  
That's beside the point. Let's go.  
  
>>  
**>>> look! a vintage spacing tool! rock on!**  
>>  
  
Where _are_ we, exactly? Kyra asked, gazing curiously at the place they had just arrived. It was a well-furnished home, complete with hot tub, air conditioning, and a big screen t.v-vcr-and-dvd player combo. (Flat screen, nonetheless.) To put it bluntly, it kicked ass.  
  
Your mansion, Shadow replied. (In mid-transit from Kyra's messy room to this place, Kyra had decided to rename the shadowy figure, if only because the repetition of the term shadowy figure was slowly but surely grating at her nerves.)  
  
Kyra said. A couple seconds later, she did a double-take and said, Waitasecond-- _what?_ My _mansion_?  
  
  
  
Since when do I have a bloody MANSION?!  
  
Since you were nominated to the Street of Omnipotent Animorph Ancients, Shadow replied with a sigh, looking as put-off as an intangible mass of shadowy form could. Almost as an afterthought, it added,   
  
The _what_? Kyra asked, confused. Without waiting for an answer, she ran to the door and looked out. It was an entire street of fancy, well-furnished houses. The mailboxes all had names emblazoned on them in bright neon red lettering: Forlay. DMP. Fishie. Tobiasrulz. Steve-0. Ruby. There was a sign next to her mansion -- which wasn't as big as many of the others, Kyra noted with a brief sigh -- as well, reading Unfortunately, that was scribbled on in black magic marker, and was replaced haphazardly with a tag board sign reading, Ascot no Miko.  
  
Who did that to my mailbox? Kyra asked, momentarily shunting aside the much bigger question of, Where the hell am I?'  
  
You did, when you changed your name, answered Shadow, hovering -- floating? appearing? -- beside her.  
  
Oh, that's nice, said Kyra a bit snidely, rolling her eyes. Okay, better question: what is this place?  
  
This is the home of the Animorph greats of long ago, Shadow said, its voice somehow attaining a strangely omnipresent sound. Those who made the paths for the authors who followed, those who set the tone of the Animorphs section for years to follow. They are the ones who are settled here, on the most majestic hills of-- hey, are you even listening to me? Shadow snapped, irritated.  
  
Kyra was looking curiously at the address beside the doorbell. -5 Anific Lane, she murmured, tilting her head curiously. She turned to Shadow. Why is it negative?  
  
You weren't even listening to me! Shadow gasped, clearly offended.  
  
Was so, muttered Kyra. You said something about this being the home of great Animorph writers. Which, I might add, still doesn't explain my being here. I mean, seriously, have you _read_ my Animorph fanfics? They suck. And not in the cool-sucky-but-actually-kind-of-funny sort of way. I'm talking retarded-chimp-who-gave-this-bitch-a-keyboard level. Really.  
  
Shadow regarded Kyra for a long moment before saying, You really need to work on your self-esteem.  
  
Shut up.  
  
But clearly there _are_ people who liked your writing, Shadow protested. You wouldn't be on this street if you weren't seen as one of the early good Animorph writers.  
  
Kyra frowned, biting her lip pensively. Musing to herself, she said, Maybe I just made a lot of friends, so everyone was all like, Hey, let's give her a mansion' as a gift or something.  
  
Shadow sweatdropped.  
  
One hour later, after Kyra's self-detrimental ravings and Shadow's exasperated explanations were finished, the two beings were seated at the kitchen table, sipping Dr. Pepper (Kyra) and iced tea (Shadow. Though why -- and how -- an intangible being made of shadows would drink was beyond Kyra's level of understanding.)  
  
Okay, so I'm all important or whatever, Kyra summarized the past hour of complaining (so that the readers wouldn't have to do so on their own.) She took a drink of her pop and continued, That still doesn't explain why I was brought here _now_ of all times. I mean, you'd think they'd have let me know I had a mansion, like, back when I was actually writing for Animorphs. I'm into Harry Potter now.  
  
You'd think, Shadow agreed. But the reason I was sent to retrieve is because you received an e-mail -- a review, rather -- regarding your duties as one of the Animorph Elders.  
  
Hey, wait a moment -- I have _duties_? Kyra asked, dumbfounded. The fuck?  
  
They're not necessarily difficult, Shadow informed her, sounding like a mother explaining things to a particularly petulant child. The point is, a person named Baranth has requested your assistance in helping the Animorphs section maintain its... essence, if you would.  
  
Out of nowhere, a piece of paper containing the e-mail appeared on the table, and Kyra snatched it up. Reading it -- Heheh, sweet, s/he called me Ascot, and Oh, the first chapter of Allied forces was lost when Fanfiction.net revamped their chapter system, those bastards, coming out as muttered accompaniments -- Kyra furrowed her brow as she noted the request. After a couple minutes, she looked up at Shadow curiously.  
  
Okay, so Baranth wants me to show the new authors a thing or two about self-insertion'? Kyra asked, puzzled. I mean, it's nice to be asked, but what am I supposed to do? Rant and rave about the rights and responsibilities of the Omnipotent Powers?  
  
Shadow said, its half-translucent body shimmering in delight. These new authors don't know about the Omnipotent Powers! You do! You have them, according to the records -- given to you by Fishie, I do believe. After your story Lack of Creativity, part 2.'  
  
Which was also erased due to Fanfiction.net's new policies, Kyra muttered, looking slightly vengeful. The look passing, Kyra said, So wait. I'm supposed to revive Lack of Creativity so I can show the newer authors how to work with the Omnipotent Powers?  
  
Shadow said.  
  
Despite not really knowing how they work myself?  
  
Er -- yes.  
  
Even though I've never spoken to any of them, read any of their fics, and haven't written Animorphs fanfiction myself for roughly four years now?  
  
There was a long pause before Shadow, sounding less sage and more aggravated, responded.  
  
Just do it.  
  
  
  
**>>>>>>> rock.**  
  
**The Lack of Creativity, Part 5:_ The Guide to Self-Inserting Thyself_**  
  
_Rule #1: Never Create Romances Between Canon Characters and Thyself_  
  
_  
ThornyGurl cried.  
  
ThornyGurl! the boy-turned-hawk thought back, flying towards her and landing on her arm.  
  
Oh, let's always be together! ThornyGurl said, bright-eyed. I know that K.A. Applegate didn't include me in the Animorphs series, but she would have had she met me! Because she would have known that you and I were meant to be together forever!  
  
Oh, I agree, Tobias said, after morphing into a human sometime during ThornyGurl's speech and now showing altogether too much emotion for a Bird-Boy-turned-human to show. Despite all the subtle -- and not-so-subtle -- hints that K.A. Applegate threw towards the coupling between Rachel and myself, I know that she didn't actually mean for us to be together, because of course, Rachel is a two-timing bitch who doesn't deserve me! I not lacking in self-esteem at all, even though I clearly doubt myself on a day-to-day basis in the series.  
  
Oh, Tobias! ThornyGurl cried, throwing herself into the boy's arms.  
  
Oh ThornyGurl!  
  
And they kissed._  
  
  
** Fanfic Interruption!!!!!1.txt**  
  
  
Um, Shadow, Kyra said, looking up from her computer. I'm not sure if I'm doing this right.  
  
What do you mean? Shadow asked, looking up from playing a game of Solitaire on the coffee table.  
  
Well, like I said, I've been so far removed from the Animorphs section of Fanfiction.net that I'm not sure if I'm giving the correct advice, Kyra explained, gesturing toward the screen. Shadow materialized over and read what was written so far as Kyra continued, I mean, it's okay advice, I suppose, but what if they already know not to make romances between a canon character and a blatant self-insertion of themselves? I did that for Digimon once... ugh. Still frightens me to remember it.  
  
Shadow said, looking over the writing, maybe you're supposed to talk about plausible rules. I mean, lets face it: there are always going to be Canon Character/Self-Insertion romances. It's been that way since the dawn of the fanfiction era. It's an annoying fact of life, like... mosquitoes. And bad breath.  
  
Bug repellent, Kyra deadpanned. Breath mints.  
  
...one _without_ a common, everyday cure to help alleviate the irritation, Shadow corrected, and Kyra swore that the thing-without-eyes just rolled its eyes at her. Why don't you create rules that can be followed?  
  
  
  
  
**EnD faNfIK Interrrrrrrruption!!!!1.html**  
  
  
_Rule #2: Don't suck.  
  
hi, siaid Racel, looking at teh knew gurl. whats yur name???  
  
Im Michelle!! the girl said happly, smiling at the ANimorphs. i think its gret that u r figting the YErkS.!!1 can I join u????!  
  
marco said, and his brain thoughts wow shes hot i wish she'll be my girlfrend for sur'.   
  
thanks marco!' Micci (which si what herr nickname was0 said. thne she nd marco kissed and evryone said aawwwwwww!!!!!!!1' cuz theye were a grete couple. xoxoxoxo._  
  
  
** more interruptions, less annoyance! (!!!!1.gif)**  
  
  
snapped Shadow.  
  
Kyra said, annoyed. It's good advice!  
  
'Don't suck'? Shadow quoted. Maybe you could be a bit more specific.  
  
And how could I do that, exactly? Kyra asked, and gestured towards the screen. Anyone with two brain cells to rub together could tell that what I wrote was hideous.  
  
How do you know that's not what we're dealing with? Shadow asked, hovering on top of the computer. What if that's the reason that Baranth asked you to write something about self-insertion?  
  
She would not have come to _me_, of all people, if the problem was _that_ huge.  
  
Shadow sighed, looking oddly like a deflated balloon despite being intangible. All right, then, Shadow said, why don't you just give advice about humorous self-insertion fanfics? I mean, I think that's what Baranth was talking about in the first place when she sent you that message.  
  
Kyra frowned and got up from her chair, head to the kitchen to pour herself another Dr. Pepper. As she walked, she protested, But how am I supposed to give advice for _that_? I mean, the Animorph Elders' weren't any older than most of the kids writing now when we wrote our stuff, right? So who am I to tell them what they are doing wrong?  
  
Just point out obvious stuff! Shadow instructed, sounding annoyed.  
  
I have been! Kyra snapped back. I told them about avoiding romances -- because everyone who is reading the story will know that the new girl' is just an insertion of the author, and they won't want to read the story. I told them about writing _well_ and avoiding grammar mistakes and bad spelling.  
  
You said don't suck', Kyra, Shadow reminded the red-haired girl.  
  
Hey, y'know what, I never said that I was _good_ at giving advice, Kyra maintained. _You're_ the one who dragged me out of bed. You better be damned happy this place has cable, or I would be one very unhappy Teen Titans fan right now.  
  
Just write what you think they need to know, Kyra! Shadow said, completely put-off by now.  
  
Kyra snapped, I'll do that, then.  
  
  
** and onto the other stuff... (.jpg)**  
  
  
_ Hi, my name is Kyra. I can't give you my last name or where I live, because I'm inserting myself into an Animorphs fanfiction, which means that all last names and locations become obsolete as of this point. Though technically that shouldn't matter, because the Animorphs series has been over for quite awhile now, and we all know how the war ends. But, hey, whatever. That's not the point.  
  
The thing is, I was walking down the street one day when I got a call from my old friend, Steve-0 (who is a very nice chap, I might add, and if he reads this, I must offer my heartfelt greetings towards him. Hello!) Not much was said of this conversation (as it never really happened), but I decided to try my hand at writing Animorphs fanfiction again.  
  
So I tried. And tried. And tried. And etc.  
  
It didn't quite work out. I just couldn't get into it! So, I decided to go to the source.  
  
Which, for the record, is how I wound up in Cassie's barn, landing smack in the middle of an Animorphs meeting.  
  
Who are you? Jake gasped, staring at me blankly. I suppose it isn't every day that a girl appears out of nowhere in front of your face.  
  
She's a Yeerk! Rachel said, eyebrows narrowing. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Marco begin to morph, and I looked up to see Tobias flaring his wings. As I looked down, however, I was made suddenly aware of a very sharp blade at my throat.  
  
Inform us of your identity, stranger, Ax thought, looking altogether too frightening for an alien with four eyes.  
  
I began, not knowing where exactly to start. I did know, however, that I wasn't having a very comfortable first go at this, and decided to make it better. I snapped my fingers, and suddenly, we were all in a sterile, white room. The Animorphs were all in their human forms and tied to chairs, whereas I was seated on a plush blue couch positioned directly opposite them.  
  
What the-- Marco began, struggling futilely in his bindings.  
  
I smiled.  
  
Hi, kids, I said, feeling much too smug about the fact that I was now technically older than them (seeing as how the oldest the Animorphs ever got in canon was sixteen -- presumably --, and I was eighteen.) Don't worry, I'm not a Yeerk. And don't try to morph, Rachel, those ropes are charmed so that you can't.  
  
Jake asked  
  
Rachel snarled.  
  
That's impossible! Cassie protested, staring at me in confusion. If that was true, the Yeerks would have--  
  
I told you, I'm not a Yeerk, I said. My name is Kyra. I-- Here I paused dramatically, trying to sum up as much pompous attitude as I could muster, --am a fanfiction author.  
  
You could practically feel the air suck out of the room as each of the Animorphs gasped. I reveled in my pride.  
  
Until Marco ruined my moment.  
  
Wait a minute..., murmured Marco, giving me a skeptical look. Aren't you one of those fanfiction authors who went crazy writing those self-insertion series'?  
  
Do you mean the ones that got so out of hand that Fanfiction.net eventually kicked them all out of the Animorphs section, because they no longer pertained to the series itself at all? Tobias asked for confirmation. When Marco nodded, Tobias continued, I thought you left after that craze finished.  
  
I did, I said, glowering momentarily at Marco for blocking my sunshine, and then saying, I'm actually here per request of Baranth. Apparently, self-insertion fanfics are making a comeback.  
  
The Animorphs winced, and somewhere down the hall, Visser Three screeched in pain.  
  
I blinked, frowned, and pulled out a controller from midair. Pressing the Soundproof' button for the room, I continued talking.  
  
So I'm here to help make sure what happened last time won't happen again, I added.  
  
I though you liked writing self-insertion fanfics, Jake said, frowning.  
  
You certainly liked annoying me, muttered Marco under his breath. I smiled cheekily at him.  
  
I did like writing them, I explained. And really, there's nothing wrong with them. However, I don't want this to get out of hand like last time. I mean, Fanfiction.net had to give us our own section called Author Fics' just because we were getting so rampant! That can't happen again!  
  
Isn't writing a self-insertion exactly what you're doing right now? Rachel asked, cocking an eyebrow.  
  
I said. And isn't it annoying to have to listen to eight pages about me? Wouldn't you rather read about your favorite characters getting involved in battles or romances?  
  
Who is she talking to now? Cassie whispered to Jake as I stood up, looking out at the readers.  
  
Self-insertion fanfics are fun, yes, but not when they get to be so copious! I said. The purpose of fanfiction is to write about the characters, the ones that everyone knows and loves! If everyone writes about themselves in the story, then where will the Animorphs themselves go?!  
  
Here, here, Tobias said, rolling his eyes. Now let us go.  
  
I turned and frowned at him. I snapped, and snapped my fingers.  
  
They were gone.  
  
I remained, momentarily, to say one last thing.  
  
Now, I know that self-insertion fanfics are great. I like them, too. But keep it down. And if you're going to write them, at least make it good._  
  
  
** the end? almost. (.PSD!!!!1)**  
  
  
Kyra said, pushing Save' on the computer. She turned to Shadow, who was building a house out of cards. I think this is what I need.  
  
Shadow said, not even bothering to look. The figure turned and asked, Do you think it'll help?  
  
I dunno, answered Kyra honestly. I don't even know if this is what Baranth wants. Maybe I was supposed to write my own self-insertion fanfic and wow all the new writers with my (not so good) talent. I'm not sure. But I think this is for the best -- self-insertion fanfics are way too hyped, and a lot of times, they aren't that good. Like those piece of shit Choose Your Own Adventure fanfics in the Yu Yu Hakusho section. God! Who _thought_ of that craze, and _why_ is it so popular?! It sucks worse than a DBZ marathon during the Cell Saga!  
  
Shadow said nothing, though a sweatdrop appeared on the side of the shadowy void's head'.  
  
I mean, what we had -- back then, when the craze was going -- that was fun, I admit that, Kyra continued. And it was original, and it was great. I can kind of see why people nowadays want to revive it. But they shouldn't! Why should we have another self-insertion craze? One was enough, methinks.  
  
Shadow muttered.  
  
But whatever, Kyra said. I'm done. I gave my warning, I said my piece.  
  
You're not going to come back to the Animorphs section? Shadow asked.  
  
Nah, Marco's too young for me to fawn over now, Kyra said. I think I'll stick with Remus Lupin.  
  
......isn't he almost forty years old?  
  
I like older men. Leave me alone.  
  
  
** the end!!!!!!!!!11.htmlTXT w00t. (for real. I swear.)**  
  
  
**Notes**: Written for Baranth, who asked me to. Baranth, sweetheart, I (like Steve-0) do not know your gender, so I'm sorry for never referring to you in the pronoun sense. Also, I didn't know exactly what you wanted me to do, and I don't have your e-mail address, so... whalah! This. I'm afraid that I won't be writing more Animorphs stories, however -- I'm into other series' now. Good luck with your crusade (of sorts.) Best wishes.  
  
All flames are welcome and will be used for surviving Minnesota winter next year at college. Hello, buh-bai, and have a nice life, everyone. Review if you must. ; 


End file.
